Your Character's Name: Oren
I looked blankly at them as they smirked at me, brushing past and walking back outside. Hobson followed, awkwardly adjusting the rocket launcher on his back. I rubbed my eyes and looked around the shack once more, sighing, second-guessing my intuition. These guys I was with, they did things differently and while we all agreed to get where we were going, no matter the cost, this seemed a bit extreme.
The already dim and broken down shack now stood as a crime scene that no one would bother with. The counter was cracked and splintered, pieces of wood scattered the ground, and spots of red glimmered on the walls and floor with the sunlight shining in through the door. I looked down at Le Chuck, no longer breathing, his neck attached to a pile of blood, hair and bone. And around him, shards of ceramic. The reason this happened.
Those two fucking cat statues.
Did anyone even grab the fishing line?
Nolan and Hal were laughing with each other when I walked outside, each gasp of air filling their lungs with a twisted sense of victory. Hobson was the only one I felt might have some sense to him, despite his idea of mediation being to aim his rocket launcher at everyone and tell them to calm the fuck down. Still, if anyone in this group had a lick of conscience, I’d wager it’d be Hobson.
“Well then,” I heard, looking at the ground as I tried to regain hope. “Let’s carry on now, eh?”
I looked up with a forced smile and nodded. I wouldn’t leave. I couldn’t. There was too much to lose if I left. If I could make it to the gas station that Hal’s uncle spoke of, then I could leave them. Then I could take off and continue on with what I started: finding my sister. But for now, this is where I needed to be and these were the men I needed to trust.
Hal, Nolan and Hobson were all a few paces ahead of me moving quickly but coolly towards the building we first noticed, bigger than the shack but just as busted up. As we got closer, voices got louder and clearer. Hal and Nolan looked back at me with a smile, Hobson keeping his eyes ahead.
I didn’t want to be a leader. I had the smarts, I had the intimidation, I lacked the balls. I can admit it. I’ve always been too friendly or trusting or optimistic. The traits that many loved about me were the ones that others thought were a weakness in this world. I can always see the silver lining no matter how corrupted the circumstance and more times than not, I’d be let down by the final outcome. Still, I’d find hope.
This is something I’ve been working on. Getting with the times, getting out of my stupid fucking fairytales. So, seeing Hal and Nolan smile that devious smile back at me again as they made their way to the front door of this crowded building, I spoke up.
“Wait.” Hal, Nolan and Hobson stopped and looked at me. “Keep back.” I was surprised I didn’t need to say anymore. Hobson looked suspicious but the other two nodded, Hal stretching his arm towards the door: After you.
I marched over there, trying my best to mask any worry. What am I doing? What the hell am I doing?
My mind went back to the shack, Le Chuck folding his arms around the cat statues that Nolan and Hobson put down to trade for some line and bait. Next thing I knew, Nolan is cracking Le Chuck’s fingers with a pipe and Le Chuck isn’t thinking twice to pull a saber from under the table. A goddamn saber! The rest is kind of hazy. My mind is already repressing what happened not ten minutes ago, taking itself back to some tranquil bullshit paradise, but I do remember the saber coming down and Hal swinging his golf club against Le Chuck’s temple, taking Le Chuck back and Nolan going over the counter to help finish the job. That’s it.
And that’s why I’m here. At the front door, looking into the face of a man with the patience of one question:
“Yeah, what?”
“Hey, there.” I cringed at myself. I sounded like I was welcoming him to the neighborhood, fresh baked cookies in hand.
The man stood silently, waiting for me to go on, probably to make slamming the door in my face that much more of a bliss.
I cleared my throat and continued. “Name’s Oren,” I started to lift my hand for a shake but let it drop before he could see.
“What you got?”
As he asked that his head moved just long enough for me to see tables lined up in the room behind him. Tables with weapons. Also food, drink, and other miscellaneous crap but mostly weapons. All for trade. What’ve I got? “Questions.” He raised an eyebrow and grunted. “I’m going north right now and-” he started to close the door but I put my hand against it and pushed back, which I’ll admit surprised even me, “…and I need to know some things.”
“I don’t have answers,” he growled, his voice halfway down his throat. “Now if you don’t have anything for me, be on you’re way.”
“I just need to know-”
“I said get the fuck away,” he began stepping out the door, clearly intent on making sure I didn’t come by again, but before he crossed the trim I put a foot in and put my face to his.
“And I said I need some questions answered.” I was breathing heavily against him and he retreated slightly, the drastic change in my mood being more intimidating than anything else, I figured. “My sister, she’s been taken,” I spoke in a gravely whisper as if he had taken her and I knew it. “She’s been through here. I know this much. Through this area at least, but all I know now is she’s up north. Now…I have some questions. Questions that you or one of your friends are bound to know,” I nodded behind him and saw the scene I was making was distracting them from their trades.
It wasn’t long before I got back up and me, Nolan, Hal and Hobson we’re reluctantly let in.
We looked around at the tables as the other men in the room casually got back to trading. We decided to take a look around before asking the questions. I regret not asking first.
Within minutes, the man at the front door was yelling across the room at his friend, “Hey, Mark! This guy says if we don’t trade the way he wants to trade, he’s gonna blow this place up!” The man and his friend Mark laughed, attracting the attention of their other friends. Nolan, Hal and I both turned our heads in sync to see Hobson with a hand on the rocket launcher. “And you’re serious about that, are you? What if I tell you you ain’t trading anything?”
“Then I’m blowing this place up,” Hobson said. I couldn’t tell if he was nervous or so confident his voice shook, but the bluff was obvious.
“Alright,” the man said as everyone else turned towards them, putting a hand on whatever they might use against us. “How’s about you four get out?” He looked at me. “No questions. No answers. Get the fuck out or expect trouble.”
The room got smaller as everyone slowly walked towards us, hands on their crowbars, knives, guns, whatever. I put my hands up and the four of us stepped out the front door in a pathetic defeat.
Oh, Hobson. I had such hope for you.
I looked blankly at them as they smirked at me, brushing past and walking back outside. Hobson followed, awkwardly adjusting the rocket launcher on his back. I rubbed my eyes and looked around the shack once more, sighing, second-guessing my intuition. These guys I was with, they did things differently and while we all agreed to get where we were going, no matter the cost, this seemed a bit extreme.
The already dim and broken down shack now stood as a crime scene that no one would bother with. The counter was cracked and splintered, pieces of wood scattered the ground, and spots of red glimmered on the walls and floor with the sunlight shining in through the door. I looked down at Le Chuck, no longer breathing, his neck attached to a pile of blood, hair and bone. And around him, shards of ceramic. The reason this happened.
Those two fucking cat statues.
Did anyone even grab the fishing line?
Nolan and Hal were laughing with each other when I walked outside, each gasp of air filling their lungs with a twisted sense of victory. Hobson was the only one I felt might have some sense to him, despite his idea of mediation being to aim his rocket launcher at everyone and tell them to calm the fuck down. Still, if anyone in this group had a lick of conscience, I’d wager it’d be Hobson.
“Well then,” I heard, looking at the ground as I tried to regain hope. “Let’s carry on now, eh?”
I looked up with a forced smile and nodded. I wouldn’t leave. I couldn’t. There was too much to lose if I left. If I could make it to the gas station that Hal’s uncle spoke of, then I could leave them. Then I could take off and continue on with what I started: finding my sister. But for now, this is where I needed to be and these were the men I needed to trust.
Hal, Nolan and Hobson were all a few paces ahead of me moving quickly but coolly towards the building we first noticed, bigger than the shack but just as busted up. As we got closer, voices got louder and clearer. Hal and Nolan looked back at me with a smile, Hobson keeping his eyes ahead.
I didn’t want to be a leader. I had the smarts, I had the intimidation, I lacked the balls. I can admit it. I’ve always been too friendly or trusting or optimistic. The traits that many loved about me were the ones that others thought were a weakness in this world. I can always see the silver lining no matter how corrupted the circumstance and more times than not, I’d be let down by the final outcome. Still, I’d find hope.
This is something I’ve been working on. Getting with the times, getting out of my stupid fucking fairytales. So, seeing Hal and Nolan smile that devious smile back at me again as they made their way to the front door of this crowded building, I spoke up.
“Wait.” Hal, Nolan and Hobson stopped and looked at me. “Keep back.” I was surprised I didn’t need to say anymore. Hobson looked suspicious but the other two nodded, Hal stretching his arm towards the door: After you.
I marched over there, trying my best to mask any worry.
What am I doing? What the hell am I doing?
My mind went back to the shack, Le Chuck folding his arms around the cat statues that Nolan and Hobson put down to trade for some line and bait. Next thing I knew, Nolan is cracking Le Chuck’s fingers with a pipe and Le Chuck isn’t thinking twice to pull a saber from under the table. A goddamn saber! The rest is kind of hazy. My mind is already repressing what happened not ten minutes ago, taking itself back to some tranquil bullshit paradise, but I do remember the saber coming down and Hal swinging his golf club against Le Chuck’s temple, taking Le Chuck back and Nolan going over the counter to help finish the job. That’s it.
And that’s why I’m here. At the front door, looking into the face of a man with the patience of one question:
“Yeah, what?”
“Hey, there.” I cringed at myself. I sounded like I was welcoming him to the neighborhood, fresh baked cookies in hand.
The man stood silently, waiting for me to go on, probably to make slamming the door in my face that much more of a bliss.
I cleared my throat and continued. “Name’s Oren,” I started to lift my hand for a shake but let it drop before he could see.
“What you got?”
As he asked that his head moved just long enough for me to see tables lined up in the room behind him. Tables with weapons. Also food, drink, and other miscellaneous crap but mostly weapons. All for trade.
What’ve I got? “Questions.” He raised an eyebrow and grunted. “I’m going north right now and-” he started to close the door but I put my hand against it and pushed back, which I’ll admit surprised even me, “…and I need to know some things.”
“I don’t have answers,” he growled, his voice halfway down his throat. “Now if you don’t have anything for me, be on you’re way.”
“I just need to know-”
“I said get the fuck away,” he began stepping out the door, clearly intent on making sure I didn’t come by again, but before he crossed the trim I put a foot in and put my face to his.
“And I said I need some questions answered.” I was breathing heavily against him and he retreated slightly, the drastic change in my mood being more intimidating than anything else, I figured. “My sister, she’s been taken,” I spoke in a gravely whisper as if he had taken her and I knew it. “She’s been through here. I know this much. Through this area at least, but all I know now is she’s up north. Now…I have some questions. Questions that you or one of your friends are bound to know,” I nodded behind him and saw the scene I was making was distracting them from their trades.
It wasn’t long before I got back up and me, Nolan, Hal and Hobson we’re reluctantly let in.
We looked around at the tables as the other men in the room casually got back to trading. We decided to take a look around before asking the questions. I regret not asking first.
Within minutes, the man at the front door was yelling across the room at his friend, “Hey, Mark! This guy says if we don’t trade the way he wants to trade, he’s gonna blow this place up!” The man and his friend Mark laughed, attracting the attention of their other friends. Nolan, Hal and I both turned our heads in sync to see Hobson with a hand on the rocket launcher. “And you’re serious about that, are you? What if I tell you you ain’t trading anything?”
“Then I’m blowing this place up,” Hobson said. I couldn’t tell if he was nervous or so confident his voice shook, but the bluff was obvious.
“Alright,” the man said as everyone else turned towards them, putting a hand on whatever they might use against us. “How’s about you four get out?” He looked at me. “No questions. No answers. Get the fuck out or expect trouble.”
The room got smaller as everyone slowly walked towards us, hands on their crowbars, knives, guns, whatever. I put my hands up and the four of us stepped out the front door in a pathetic defeat.
Oh, Hobson. I had such hope for you.